


Deny me

by Jahmana



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Cardan missing Jude, Exile, F/M, Heartbreak, Nicasia is That Bitch, POV Cardan Greenbriar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jahmana/pseuds/Jahmana
Summary: Cardan’s POV of the ending of TWK
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Deny me

She’s there when I wake up, an emblem of beauty and strength, my wife. My queen. It has a nice ring to it, accompanied with the butterflies that rise in my stomach every time I think of it. She’s so beautiful, and she’s mine, mine to hold, mine to kiss, mine to love. How did I ever get so lucky that I earned her favor? Not Locke, not some mortal, me. I could stay like this forever, watching as she sleeps, as she mumbles and turns, burying closer into my chest. This sight makes my shabby little heart want to jump out of my chest. I think about all of the times I have hurt her, humiliated her, made her feel less than she was just because she was always something I could never have. Guilt gnaws at my gut, guilt about how I treated her, how I always attempted to make her feel worthless. I fear she might one day realize how much better she could be without me, and leave, taking my heart with her. As I lay there, watching her, my arms tighten around her waist possessively, my tail wraps around her ankle, flicking back and forth over it, getting the smallest sigh from her perfect lips. I pull back a little bit, looking at every inch of my wife, marveling at how perfectly imperfect she is, and how that makes me love her even more, if possible. I look down to her hands, her tiny, calloused hands and see something in her nails. It’s thick and red, and as I look closer, I freeze. It’s blood. Blood. But whose? Is it hers, did someone try to hurt my Jude? Anger flares through me, knowing how dangerous it is here, and how Jude never backs down. Then I remember her meeting with Balekin, and how it went much longer than she told me it would, and remember the blood on her sleeve when she returned. No. No. It’s not true. It can’t be. Balekin can’t be dead! He’s my only family left, and I told Jude not to hurt him. I told her and she did it anyway. Something builds inside my gut, a feeling similar to anger, to fear and to dread. My brother was ambassador to the Undersea, not to mention a Prince of Elfhame and the High King’s brother. The Undersea Queen will be furious, and my subjects will think me weak if I let Jude go unpunished. But most of all, her life would be in danger, and I can’t risk that. She means far too much to me to let her suffer again. I remember how Jude looked when she was finally returned from The Undersea’s hold, so pale and fragile. So Mortal. Wait, she’s mortal. And if she returns to the mortal world, she will be safe, and I could get this sorted out and then bring her back. But how am I to do that? She won’t go willingly, and I can’t force her. Or can I? She doesn’t hold power over me anymore, and so I am free to do what I want. Exile? No. I will not exile my Jude, the one I love, who might actually love me back. But how else would I get her there for so long? There is no way she would willingly go. The mortal lands always seemed to bore her, and I know how she craves the magic and the danger of Elfhame. No, there is no other way to keep her safe. It must be in exile. I make my plans in haste, trying not to wake her as I scheme. Scheme her utter betrayal. It does something to that rotten, worm-eaten thing in my chest. I’m betraying her, just like Locke, just like Taryn, just like her foster father. All of these people she trusted at one point or another, and they all threw it away for something seemingly better. And soon, I will be added to that list, though I can hardly classify this as better. I sit down on one of my many fine chairs, and try to keep the emotion welling up in my chest to a minimum. My head turns to her when I hear sheets rustling. She’s still asleep, looking like an angel. She reaches her arms out, trying to find something and pull it closer. I hear the smallest whisper of my name and feel a tear run down my face. She’ll hate me. I won’t get to wake up to this. Not for longer than I can bear to think of. How will she react? Will she yell? Will she scream that she hates me? Will she cry? That’s ridiculous, Jude doesn’t cry, not when she learned of Locke and Taryn’s betrayal, not after she was bullied and ridiculed by me and my friends. But is this enough to finally break her? I pick up an empty glass vial, tossing it back and forth between my shaking hands. I don’t want to do this. I love her, and I can’t imagine her not by my side. But if I want to keep her safe, I have to do this, regardless of how much she will hate me. There’s a banging on the door, startling me. I look over to where Jude is sitting up, looking innocent and angelic, and my gut twists in dread. I plaster my most mischievous smile on my face, watching Jude, who looks unnerved. The door swings open and there’s a guard on the other side. “Your majesty, your brother is dead. There was a duel, from what we’ve been able to determine.” A duel? My wife challenged my brother to a duel? She could have died. It could’ve been Jude who was found dead. “Ah.” I say, the dread creeping up my spine. I can’t do this, I can’t make her hate me. But I have to. I love her, and I need to keep her safe. “What is your name?” I ask. He hesitates,”Rannoch, your majesty.” “Rannoch, assemble a group of nights to escort me down to the water. Wait in the courtyard.” I feel sick to my stomach. I turn to Jude, who looks defeated. “Well, wife, it seems you have kept at least one secret in your dowry. Come, we must dress for our first audience together.” I say in my chilliest voice, and I can see the emotion clear on her face. A horrible combination of dread and guilt. I can’t believe that this is the best option. Regardless, I pointedly ignore her as she flees my rooms, as we saddle our horses, and as we ride to her horrible, unknown fate.  
Queen Orlagh is standing on the beach, looking feral. Her army is much larger than mine, granted I just lost half of it. Nicasia is there, watching me with a ferocity I know comes from desire. It makes my stomach turn, knowing that Jude sees it, too. I haven’t spoken to her since I got the report, not trusting myself to keep the emotion out of my voice. I can tell that she’s worried about what I’ll do, and I can’t blame her, because I’m worried too. Orlagh yells at me, calling me a coward, saying that it was my responsibility to keep Balekin safe. Though it annoys me to listen to her insult me, I nearly see red when she insults Jude. Alas, the moment comes, far too soon. I have to prove my power, so I bring an island up from the sea, trapping Nicasia and causing Orlagh to cease the water coming to flood my lands. I command Nicasia to stay on land with me, making Jude give me an evaluating look. I know exactly what she’s thinking, and again it makes my stomach churn. Now it’s time, time to ruin everything I’ve built in the last day. I turn to Jude, looking into her uncertain eyes, eyes I won’t get to gaze into for a long time. I ask her if she denies murdering my brother, knowing full well that she did. Her confirmation was all I needed. “Hear my judgment, I hereby exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, and I wish that I could snatch them back, even as I am speaking them. The look that crosses her face twists my insides and makes me want to hug her and kiss her until she’s better. “But you can’t do that!” She yells. “Of course I can.” I respond calmly. “But I’m the Queen of Elfhame!” Jude shouts. I feel my facade start to crumble, and I desperately try to maintain my composure. Then everyone laughs. Queen Orlagh and Princess Nicasia holler, the guards snicker, our subjects throw insult after insult, and a moment too late, I laugh too. Her eyes fill with tears, and it feels like someone has robbed all of the air from my lungs. “Deny it, then! Deny me!” She screams, her eyes red with unshed tears. I cannot, so I remain silent, practically a denial of its own. A guard’s hand, Rannoch’s, closes over her arm. He pulls her from her horse, from the crowd, and I take a second to look out into it. I see her friends, the Roach and the Bomb, watching her with sadness in their eyes. The Bomb’s eyes slide to me and I see tears springing up in them. This breaks something in me, and I have to turn away, stepping onto the island so that no one can see what this is doing to me. In the corner of my eye, I see Jude look back at me. I speak, but I don’t pay attention to what I’m saying. All I can think about are the tears in Jude’s eyes, the way her voice shook. As I’m riding back, Nicasia is on Jude’s horse, chattering endlessly about that ‘foolish mortal’ who actually believes that she belongs here. My hands tighten their hold on the horse's reins. My jaw sets and I clench my teeth, trying not to snap at her for insulting Jude. I hate the way that Nicasia is looking at me, like she thinks I want her again. My thoughts wander back to what Jude is probably thinking about Nicasia and I staying in the same place. Goodness, what have I done? We reach the Palace and I leave Nicasia to find a room, thoughtlessly wandering around, wondering what I’m going to do now that Jude is gone. I find myself standing outside of her old rooms, a bottle of wine in my hand. I hesitate before going inside, but when I step in, her scent immediately washes over me. It twists my stomach, a sense of nostalgia coursing through me. I walk further into the room, and as I look around, I feel that ugly, rotten thing in my chest shatter. I sit on Jude’s bed, pursing my lips together, trying to keep my tears at bay, but when I picture the tears in her eyes, the image of her being dragged away from me, everything comes flowing out. The tears roll down my face, blurring my vision and making me curl up into a ball on her bed. “If she didn’t hate me before, she surely will now.” I murmur against her bed sheets, savoring her intoxicating scent. I crawl up to her pillow, hugging it with all that I am, trying to save what little of her that I have left. I kick back the covers and crawl in. The tears streaming down my face are soaking her pillow, but I don’t care. By the time I get my Jude back, the tears will have long since dried. I fall asleep to her scent, dreaming about how she loathes me so, how she’ll soon forget about me in the arms of someone else. When I wake up, Jude’s name is on my lips. I sit up and look around, listening as someone opens the door and rounds the corner. It’s the Bomb, looking at me dumbfounded. She quickly recovers and comes to sit next to me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I feel my walls come crumbling down at this, and, possibly pathetically, begin crying hysterically, sobs wracking my body. She pulls me closer and tells me that it’s okay. It’s not okay, though, it won’t be for a long time. 

It’s been three months since I forced Jude out of our home. I’ve written five letters so far, none of which she has responded to. She must have moved on, gotten a taste for that strange world in her agonizing absence. I am sitting on my throne, imagining Jude in the arms of some pathetic mortal, ignoring Nicasia and her obnoxious voice. Nicasia is sitting at my feet, tracing her fingers up and down my thighs, while I’m trying my hardest to keep my legs from kicking her off the dais. “Cardan, my love, are you listening to me?” I swallow the bile rising up in my throat, a response to her words. “Forgive me, my mind seems to be elsewhere.” I reply diplomatically, willing the annoyance out of my voice. She frowns for a moment, but it quickly turns into a seductive grin, and I feel deep repulsion settling in my stomach. “Perhaps I could keep your attention in your rooms.” She replies, tracing hearts on my thighs. I stand immediately, knocking her over onto her backside. I excuse myself as she grumbles, then grins. I allow her to follow me to my rooms, but the moment I reach my door, I signal for the guards to escort her elsewhere. I enter my rooms begrudgingly, wishing I was anywhere but here. I walk to my closet and retrieve the pillow I stole from Jude’s bed. I place it on mine and lie down, closing my eyes and imagining Jude next to me. My thoughts quickly stray elsewhere though, picturing her sharing a bed with another, having long forgotten about me and moved on. I turn and hug her pillow. It reminds me of a very certain night, the night where I managed to betray Jude and ruin the best thing that has happened to me. I recall the tears in Jude’s eyes, the utter betrayal written all over her face and hug the pillow tighter, allowing the tears to run down my face, my thoughts to become plagued by a mortal girl. A mortal girl who has found her way to my heart and now loathes me for it. I close my eyes and breathe in her scent. This is where I currently lay, wondering when she will return and get me back for what I’ve done, wondering how I’ve become so broken without her, cursing myself for laughing her out of our home, and falling asleep with one word on my lips. Jude.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


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